Guibert,—your strange, disinterested man!
Your uncorrupted, if uncourtly friend!
The modest worth you mean to patronize!
He cares about no Duchesses, not he!
His sole concern is with the wrongs of Cleves!
What, Guibert? What, it breaks on you at last?
Gui. Would this hall's floor were a mine's roof! I'd back
And in her very face ...
Gau. Apply the match
That fired the train,—and where would you be, pray?